Advent Lutheran Church

"Defining Moments (Fourth Sunday of Easter)"

            Recently I saw some old news footage of then President George Bush at a school, reading a book to some youngsters, as he received the news from his chief of staff of the 9/11 attacks. The story was about how that day had impacted the now 14-year-old lives.  Many of them described that day as a “defining moment” in their life, not so much because of the events of the day, but because in returning to finish the story he had been reading, President Bush had made them feel safe and secure in the face of what turned out to be one of our country’s biggest defining moments. 

            Everyone has these defining moments in their lives. Some are intensely personal, like the day you first met your life partner, or graduation, or the baptism of your child.  Some are corporate, national, even global:  Pearl Harbor Day; the end of a war; the first moon walk; the day the Berlin Wall came down.  Each generation has its own collection of defining moments.

            These moments are almost like that one clue, that tantalizing piece of information in a novel that you don’t quite “get” until the story reaches its dramatic climax and you look back and say, “Oh, now I understand…” This story from John’s gospel serves is just such a “marker” – a glimpse of how God brings us to abundant life.

            We begin this Good Shepherd Sunday by remembering that the idea of God as Shepherd is inherited from the Hebrew Bible.  Throughout Isaiah and Psalms we see that God, or God’s representative, the King, acted as shepherd for the sheep, the people of Israel.  But by the time of Jesus, this image was beginning to get old, to break down.  The Pharisees to which Jesus is speaking in today’s story, saw themselves as the shepherds of the faith, and as leaders of law-abiding Jews, they were to interpret the law and guide the people. 

            Their goal was to create a "fence around the Torah," so that all the questions of the Law had answers.  They wanted life to be black and white and ordered in such a way so that the Law provided rules for any situation and enough clarity that no one would be confused about how to live.  And, because adherence to the Law meant access to God, they reasoned that no one would have any difficulty connecting through the Law to God.  This idea turned out to be great for the insiders, those who could afford the endless offerings and sacrifices, those of wealth and status.  But it became a huge burden for those “outside the fence around the Torah,” those who could not keep the law for a variety of reasons.  Therefore, many of the people lost all hope of connecting to God.

            And Jerusalem itself was a huge symbol of the inequity of the insiders and outsiders.  Jerusalem - sort of “sheepfold” itself with it’s circuitous outer walls, intermittently marked with large gates through which commerce and visitors could freely flow.  The city was the focal point of a great big ingathering of all of God’s people into one central point: Jerusalem. And at the center? The Temple: the fence around the Torah. And to get to God, you had to get through that fence.

            Until Jesus came to change all that.  You see, everything that was important or relevant happened in Jerusalem: the secure Sheepfold for the people.  And so it was that God was kept from the people, until the day the gate called the Golden Gate opened to man on a donkey who entered the city to shouts of “Hosanna in the Highest!”  From that point on, Jesus was the Gate in the fence; the way to God.

            It is hard for us modern folks to get the imagery here, because not many of us have experience with a sheep.  So here’s different picture to imagine:  as shepherds brought sheep into a circular sheepfold for safety and security at the end of the day, we tuck our children in at night with prayers and stories, perhaps a last drink of water or potty stop.  Then we kiss them and hug them and quietly turn out the light and click the door shut on them, peaceful and safe for the night.  But it’s what happens in the morning that is important for us in today’s reading:

            In verse 4 we read, "When he has brought out all of his own…”  Now your “Greek for the week” is the word ek-ball-o, which is used over and over in John’s gospel.  Translated as “brought out,” ekballo is not perhaps as strong as it should be, especially when describing the difference between the gathering in of sheep, or the tucking in of children for the night.  Ekballo highlights the stark difference in mood between these two.  It is an active word, a word that has power and force - in fact, it is the word that is used every time Jesus casts out a demon, or when he makes a whip to chase the money changers from the temple, or when he speaks about driving out the "ruler of this world."         In every use of word, Jesus is doing some sort of battle:  pushing, pulling, throwing, driving, exorcising, casting out – which is probably a lot more descriptive of what we parents have to do to get our kids going in the morning and out the door.

            But, haven’t we all had times when Jesus has “ekballo’ed” us out of Gates of our warm, comfortable, cozy sheepfolds?  Don’t we each have some “defining moments” in our lives, that we don’t recognize until we look back on them?  Moments that we never would’ve had the strength or the courage to initiate on our own?  Perhaps those defining moments are the ones where Jesus brought us out of the sheepfold, through the gate, so that we could follow him.    

            There’s one more thing here.  The last definition of that Greek word reads: “to lead one forth… with a force which cannot be resisted.”  What might that force be, do you think?  The end of verse 4 says, “the sheep follow him because they know his voice…”  It must have been his VOICE – the irresistible force that is so prevalent in John.  Consider (chapter 1) – “In the  beginning was the Word; The “Voice of God” was Jesus!  In chapter 9, the Man Born Blind didn’t see Jesus, but later on heard his Voice, and said, “I was blind, but now I see.”  And in chapter 11, Lazarus heard the Voice call him into Life-Out-of-Death.  

            Are you poised on the verge of a defining moment today, just needing Jesus to pull you through the Gate, but finding yourself frozen with fear, afraid or unwilling to trust that voice?  Are you in a sheepfold that you just KNOW is too comfortable, and are you looking right at Jesus’ hand as he offers to “bring you out” from the nest you made for yourself, into the scary, exciting, upsetting creativity of abundant life?  Edmund Steimle ponders exactly that when he says, “(Isn’t) this what Easter is all about? Not just an empty tomb, but a presence, a person, a voice calling each of us by name.”

            I think we want a Shepherd who will lead us into the places we do not wish to go – places and experiences that will stretch us, change us, and help us grow.  Because we know that birthpangs bring about new life, and pruning brings about abundant growth.  So, today, I’d like you to imagine how it feels to be standing at the Gate through which he will bring us into the new life of a world outside ourselves.  Now imagine Jesus as he looks into each of our faces, filled with fear, and says, “I’ll go first.”   Amen.